


Four times Jeremy and Michael thought about kissing and one time they (finally) did. (I know it's literally the most cliche thing this is self indulgent ok?)

by barlowbarlow



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Bisexual Jeremy Heere, Cliche, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Gay Michael Mell, I don't even know how to use AO3, I'll add more tags when I actually finish, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, List Fic, M/M, POV Alternating, angsty, but nothing bad, fluffly, wee bit sexual maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-08 13:56:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14106849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barlowbarlow/pseuds/barlowbarlow
Summary: Four short snippets leading up to Jeremy and Michael's first kiss.





	1. The Rules

**Number one: The Rules**

Michael had been extremely observant from an early age, but it wasn't until he was in eighth grade that noticed it. He had been friends with Jeremy for years, and everything had always just been  _ right _ with him. They were comfortable around each other, and could spend hours together without getting bored. That's why it felt so weird- everything had always been constant with Jeremy, he was the one thing in Michael's life that never changed. So when Michael started feeling something different around him, he ignored it. He pretended his stomach hadn't started to do a fluttery sort of jolt when their shoulders touched, and he pretended he didn't start to lose levels in _apocalypse of the damned_ because he kept glancing over to the other beanbag and watching Jeremy's concentrated face. It was adorable, and sometimes he'd even bite his lip in focus, and that had a whole other effect on Michael.

Eventually, though, he had to stop pretending and ignoring. It was useless, because he still noticed the little things everywhere. He noticed Jeremy's favorite t-shirt and he noticed how Jeremy blushed when someone teased him and he noticed and kept noticing again and again. He noticed stray curls falling over Jeremy's eyes and he noticed how soft his smile was and he noticed when his dark hair would stick to his forehead with sweat. It was too much. (He'd known he was gay for years and hadn't told a soul. It terrified him.)

He eventually had to notice that he had a crush on Jeremy Heere.

Once he had come to terms with it, Michael gave himself rules. He knew that while crushing on Jeremy was unavoidable, he could save himself some pain by keeping his thoughts in line. (Not only had he always been observant, but he'd also always had a vivid imagination.) His rules were pretty simple, easily etched in the back of his mind.

\- He wasn't allowed to act on his feelings towards Jeremy, because (As far as he knew,) Jeremy was straight.

\- He wasn't allowed to let his feelings get in the way of their friendship.

\- He wasn't allowed to tell anyone about it.

\- And, for his own sanity, he wasn't allowed to fantasize about doing anything with Jeremy.

Especially not kissing. 

These rules worked well- Michael could suppress his feelings while still maintaining the bond he'd always had with his best friend. He was able to keep this up for months after he first realized it, never once slipping up.

Until he did.

It was a hot, humid night, sometime in late June. Eighth grade was nearly over, high school was just around the corner, and everything was changing. E xcept Michael.  He felt like he was watching his world crumble around him. His parents had been fighting almost daily. All of his friends were suddenly too cool for him, and everything was moving too fast for him to catch up. Everything, that is, except Jeremy. 

Michael was lying on his bed, the window wide open in an attempt to keep a breeze in the room. Jeremy was fast asleep on the floor beside him, breathing softly, his dark hair sticking to his face in the humidity. (That was one thing that did change with Jeremy- he didn't sleep in Michael's bed when he slept over like he used to.) He had kicked off his pajama pants in his sleep, leaving him only in a pac-man t shirt and a pair of striped boxers. Michael would have chuckled at this, had he not been on the verge of a breakdown.

He kept telling himself to hold it in, keep it together, tough it out. But he'd reached a breaking point. Everything felt like it was crashing down. Nothing in particular had set it off that night- maybe it was being shoved into a locker earlier, maybe it was his parents shouting at each other even with guests over, maybe it was just staring down at Jeremy, with his face lit only by the streetlight outside.

Whatever it was, something had set off the silent crying that now shook Michael's body. Tears dripped from his face to the sheets under him, leaving little wet spots that made him feel even more helpless. He buried his face in his hands, curling up tighter. He sniffled loudly, loud enough that he didn't hear Jeremy stirring beside him, didn't see him sit up wearily. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, slowly uncovering his face. 

"Mikey? What's wrong?" Jeremy mumbled, his voice still laced with heavy sleep. It made Michael's chest feel funny. He tried to choke out an answer, but nothing came, just some weird, broken sob. He couldn't even curse at himself. He felt so  _ pathetic.  _ Jeremy just stood for a second, looking down at him through the tired, hurting, kind eyes he knew too well, before sighing. He made a motion for Michael to scoot over, and Michael obeyed, puzzled but too distressed to care. Jeremy climbed into bed next to him, wrapping him in a hug.  Michael hesitated for a moment, holding his breath. 

And then he broke down in his arms.

Jeremy wasn't usually like this- he wasn't a really touchy person and he definitely did not like to be vulnerable. This just made Michael cry harder. He clung to Jeremy, embarrassingly desperate, feeling like he was a little kid again. He buried his face in Jeremy's chest. No matter how hard he tried, nothing could stop the tears that kept welling up in his eyes.

Jeremy didn't ask anymore questions, to Michael's relief. Eventually, after what felt like hours of crying (but was probably more like minutes,) Michael calmed down enough to breath normally. He was still torn up, still felt like he was miles behind everyone. 

But Jeremy was there. 

So he sniffled quietly until he heard Jeremy's breathing slow and dared to glance up at him. Jeremy had fallen back fast asleep, with his arms still clutching Michael tight to his chest, one (long) leg slung lazily around Michael's own as well. He looked so tired and soft in the street lamp light that was flooding through Michael's open window. Their bodies were so close.

That's when Michael slipped up. 

His mind started to roam on Jeremy. He imagined Jeremy playing video games. Jeremy in the lunchroom. Jeremy at the pool without a shirt on. Jeremy sitting on his bed. He imagined Jeremy leaning in and putting his hands in his hair and-

Michael glanced back up at sleeping Jeremy's lips. They were parted just a little.

\- Jeremy leaning in and kissing him.

Kissing him soft on the lips, smiling against them, everything feeling warm and fuzzy.

Michael snapped his eyes open. He definitely wasn't crying anymore. He'd broken one of his rules, though. No fantasizing.  _ Shit.  _

_ It's ok. It just can't happen again. _

(Spoiler alert: it definitely did.)


	2. Stupid Fucking Red Hoodie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freshman year was weird for Jeremy, in many ways. He hadn't quite gathered how to navigate high school or his own body yet. He had just hit a growth spurt, shooting up at least three inches over the summer, and he tripped over his own legs all the time.
> 
> Additionally, he hadn't yet figured out his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMALL TW: Internalized homophobia (sort of) 
> 
> Hi guys!! I hope you're having a wonderful day! If not, maybe this can cheer you up. It's a little angsty though, just a warning. Enjoy!  
> xxx

**Two: Stupid Fucking Red Hoodie**

Freshman year was weird for Jeremy, in many ways. He hadn't quite gathered how to navigate high school or his own body yet. He had just hit a growth spurt, shooting up at least three inches over the summer, and he tripped over his own legs all the time.

Additionally, he hadn't yet figured out his feelings. He may have thought he had, but he hadn't. At all. He knew he liked Christine, the cute girl that sat by him and ranted about the pros and cons (mostly pros) of musical theatre on the first day of school, and he assumed that was all- feelings were the one thing that he thought couldn't get complicated. Michael was one of those things too- the best friend that he never had to worry about losing or changing on him. Of course, with Jeremy's luck, they both got complicated quickly that year.

It started with that red hoodie.

Jeremy had gotten Michael a red hoodie as a birthday gift the summer before they started high school. It was way too big at first- the sleeves hung down past his fingertips and it was baggy on his body. Jeremy laughed at him the first time he tried it on, and offered to go exchange it. Michael refused, and Jeremy assumed he was just too nice to say no- maybe he'd wear it once for Jeremy's sake, then shove it to the back of his closet. It didn't bother him. But, as soon as fall came around, Michael wore it _every day_ without fail.

Every. Single. Day.

(It became his trademark. He'd even started to add his own patches to it.) Jeremy didn't know how to explain it- something weird was going on. It came on slowly, but by the end of the winter it was noticeable. That hoodie had some sort of affect on Jeremy. Seeing how big it was on Michael's body, knowing that it was something _he_ had given to Michael, it made him feel odd. Sort of light. Sort of warm in his stomach. He didn't know how to process it, so he just brushed it off. It wasn't something he could explain, or something he could tell anyone about. They'd probably say that it was gay. _And I'm definitely not gay. Right?_ He thought, _No. I like Christine._

But hidden somewhere in the darkest part of his mind was a doubt that terrified him.

He wasn't quite sure.

It was almost too warm to be wearing that red hoodie by mid-march, but he was still wearing it. Still making Jeremy feel funny, and Jeremy was still brushing it off. Their Friday night was spent playing video games in Michael's basement, getting Dorito grease on their controllers as they slammed the buttons and shouted across the basement. Michael wasn't allowed to have Jeremy sleepover like he usually would have on a Friday night because he was waking up at five the next morning to drive to his grandparents’ house. So at eleven thirty (when the Mell parents finally told him to go home) he scrambled for his belongings before running to Michael's car for a ride.

That's how Jeremy ended up with the red hoodie for the weekend- in his scrambling to grab his own jacket, he'd snatched Michael's on accident. He sighed as he sat on his bedroom floor, pulling it out of his backpack and examining it. It was soft, a little worn in, and it smelled so much like Michael that it made Jeremy a little dizzy. (His smell was a mix of weed, axe deodorant, something like vanilla.)

He sighed and shot Michael a text, knowing he was probably asleep already and wouldn't get it until he had left the next morning. Jeremy tossed the hoodie on his bed absentmindedly, almost forgetting it was there. Almost.

He fell asleep around two AM, restless, lonely, and bored. That's when that fucking dream happened, and changed everything.

The dream started out normal, like most dreams do. He was at lunch with Michael and they were just chatting. He couldn't really hear what Michael was saying, so he leaned in and then _bam!_ He was in a grassy field being chased by pac-man, who never quite caught up to him. Then he tripped and he was at school again, and Christine was making out with some random boy and he was shouting and then his dad was yelling at him about macaroni (??) and then he was running away from a man in blue (He sort of looked like Keanu Reeves?) and he was really, really fucking scared.

Everything cut to black. Everything went quiet.

He was slowly calm again, and he looked around. Beanbags, soda cans, a TV... This was familiar. This was Michael's basement! A little hazy, sure, but it was definitely the basement. He smiled to himself. Ok, things were normal again. And Michael was next to him, wearing that hoodie, playing some game on the screen that he couldn't see. He just kept staring at Michael. His best friend. His favorite person. The smell of him was _everywhere_ \- it felt real. It made him giddy.

Suddenly, Jeremy had the urge to do something crazy. Literally insane.

He wanted to kiss him.

Of course, he didn't know he was dreaming. But because he was dreaming, he didn't freak the _fuck_ out like he would have, had he consciously thought about kissing Michael. Instead, he reached for Michael's hoodie. His fucking red hoodie that was too big and too adorable. Dream Michael turned, pulled, him in-

and _kissed him on the fucking lips._

His heart hammered. It felt lovely- soft and warm and hazy, but not real. Like Jeremy was kissing clouds. Suddenly Michael pushed him backwards onto the couch, which didn't feel real either, and straddled his lap. _Ok. Ok. Don't freak out. Holy shit._

_Wait, Michael would never do this._

That's when he turned and watched the room melt away, watched Michael take off his shirt, watched everything get hazy and hot and- He woke up.

He shot up in bed, gripping the sheets with white knuckles. _What the ACTUAL fuck?_

Ok. Ok. So Jeremy had just had a sudo-sex dream about his best friend. No big deal, right? Except it was. This was Michael! Michael didn't have dreams like that about him. Guys don't just casually have dreams about making out with their best friends. That was _gay._

_What if...? No._

The weird thing was, he could almost still smell Michael. Actually, he really could. And he had a fucking boner. Gross. He was sure he was going crazy. It smelled just like him. He looked down. _Oh._ Michael's hoodie was still sitting in his bed where he had tossed it earlier, sort of wrapped over his pillow. That was where the scent had been coming from. He took one long look at it, before picking it up and throwing it as hard he could across the room. That _stupid fucking red hoodie_ had caused him enough trouble. Still, that weird, light feeling bubbled in his chest as he glanced at it crumpled on his floor and he turned away, wiping sweat from his face with the back of his hand. This was too much. And his heart was still hammering in his chest.

Suddenly he had the urge to cry.

He buried his face in his pillow and squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

He didn't sleep.


	3. Dude, that's gay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High school boys seem to really love calling things gay. Half of them don't even really know what gay really means, (they're that dumb) but they use it anyway. Something is awkward? That's Gay. Something is boring? This is so gay. Something is feminine? Gay. Someone is annoying? They're so gay. Literally anything is different? Fucking gay. Michael wouldn't say it didn't bother him at least a little, because he'd be lying- there was something so degrading and ugly about it. But he could brush it off and move on. The boys who said that didn't matter. It really didn't matter.
> 
> Until one day it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Homophobia
> 
> Enjoy!  
> xxx

 

Michael had known he was gay for.... forever. Or at least as long as he'd been in school. He loved girls- they were pretty- sometimes scary, sometimes sweet, sometimes everything at once. He loved girls in a platonic way. But boys. _Boys_. Michael had to admit he had been a little boy crazy lately. Well, one boy crazy. Jeremy crazy. Jeremy was on his mind more than constantly- and he couldn't even tell anyone! He was sixteen years old, so his hormones were completely out of whack, and all he could think about was his best friend. He still tried to keep to his rules... most of the time. But there was nothing wrong with thinking about Jeremy, right? That's what he told himself, even though he knew he was wrong, knew in actuality he was practically digging his own emotional grave. A small part of him didn't even care.

High school boys seem to really love calling things gay. Half of them don't even really know what gay really means, (they're that dumb) but they use it anyway. Something is awkward? That's Gay. Something is boring? This is so gay. Something is feminine? Gay. Someone is annoying? They're so gay. Literally anything is different? Fucking gay. Michael wouldn't say it didn't bother him at least a little, because he'd be lying- there was something so degrading and ugly about it. But he could brush it off and move on. The boys who said that didn't matter. It really didn't matter.

Until one day it did.

One day the boy who said it did matter. The first time Jeremy called something gay, Michael didn't say anything. It had been one of those rare occasions that other people sat with Jeremy and him at lunch, and Jeremy was deep in conversation. They were two boys, not too different from themselves, that had been pushed out of their regular lunch spot by some bully. Michael sat, contently quiet, listening as Jeremy laughed along with the boys as they argued about which porn site was the worst. It was a funny but stupid conversation that Michael didn't care about, so he pulled out his headphones, and he was just about to put them on when Jeremy spoke.

"Dude, that's so gay."

Michael wasn't sure if he'd heard it right, he _really_ hoped he hadn't heard it right, until one of the other boys echoed with "Right? Totally gay."

He froze. That wasn't like Jeremy at all- sure, Jeremy could be an asshole sometimes, but he never said stuff like that. Ever. Michael glanced up at him. He was laughing. Michael's chest felt tight. He wanted to say something so badly, but he held back. He was terrified- What if they found out? What if _he_ found out?

Michael roughly tugged his headphones on and turned up the volume so loud it hurt, staring down determinately at his sandwich.

He'd lost his appetite.

The second time came, and Michael didn't say anything. The same was true with the third time, fourth time, eighth time, twelfth... he lost count. Jeremy was saying it almost every day now. And not just saying ‘gay’- he was using it as an insult. It wasn't just something Michael could brush off. Each word felt like a kick in the chest. Each kick felt like a reminder that Jeremy would never accept him. And that was his worst fear of all.

Michael's basement had always felt comfortable for him- it was the place in his home where he felt like he could actually relax. His parents never came down, and it was the one place he couldn't hear them fighting. He had more fun memories there than he could count. Especially playing video games, and especially with Jeremy.

Not today, though. Not this time. They were alone together, each holding a controller, sharing a can of Pringles. They were an hour in.

"This is so gay."

Jeremy hadn't said it like _that_ with just Michael before. He had been talking about some challenge in some video game, but it didn't matter. Michael had forgotten everything else as soon as he'd heard the word. It hung in the air and hit Michael right where it hurt. Jeremy only noticed enough to turn around when Michael paused the game.

"Dude, why'd you pause the game? Is something wrong?"

There was a heavy silence for a moment. Michael didn't know what to say, but he knew he had to say something. "Why- why do you call things gay?" Michael asked, staring at his controller and fiddling with the little joystick. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears. Jeremy looked taken aback and suddenly uncomfortable. "Uh, I dunno, man. Because they're weird? Why does it matter?" Jeremy was seriously confused now. Michael took a shaky breath. "It's just..." he glanced up at Jeremy, at those big blue eyes, and his stomach jolted. Jeremy looked so... looked like... he was judging Michael. Jeremy had never judged Michael. Panic was creeping into Michael’s body. "Have you thought about how it makes people feel? Like, it might hurt someone's feelings?" He said gingerly, staring down at his hands once again. He dropped his controller.

"No? It's not like anyone we know is actually gay. Or, like, they wouldn't care. Why are you being so weird about this?" Jeremy was getting defensive fast. His words stung. "How do you know it wouldn't hurt their feelings?" Michael asked, staring out the window. He noticed his own voice shaking.

"Dude, I don't know, it's not like I'm _gay_ or something. Chill out." Jeremy shot at him, and edge in his voice. Those words- those words stung the most. The tone of voice, the reminder that Michael would always be stuck crushing on a straight boy- He felt them deep in his chest. It was silent. He didn't know what to say. Jeremy reached for his controller again, assuming (or hoping) the conversation was over, but Michael finally spoke before he could unpause the game.

"C-Could- could you just stop saying that? Like, as an insult? It's just mean." Michael cursed himself for how much his voice had cracked just saying that, but at least he had said something. He felt like he might cry. Jeremy turned all the way to him, his brows furrowed. "Michael. It literally doesn't matter. Why are you being so... so... sensitive about this? Just drop it. Jesus Christ." Jeremy's voice had risen and Michael felt everything in him burning. Whether it was with anger, sadness, or something else, he did not know. But something inside him snapped.

"Drop it? You want me to _drop it?_ I can't fucking _drop this,_ Jeremy!" He stood up, almost shouting now. He felt a stinging in his eyes. _Don't cry. Don't cry._ Jeremy stood up now too, his fists clenched and his face flushed like it got when he was nervous.

They were both yelling now. "Why? Why can’t you chill? Why the FUCK does it even matter to-"

"Because _I'm gay_ , Jeremy!"

Silence. Awful, stunned silence. Jeremy's eyes went wide.

_Oh no. Shit. Shit. Shit. FUCK._

Michael clapped a hand over his mouth, tears finally spilling down his cheeks. He hadn't meant to say that. He felt- he didn't know. He didn't even know what to feel. He was _out_. He was scared. Terrified. But he was also heartbroken, and furious.

And just a tiny, tiny bit relieved.

He waited for Jeremy to say something- anything at all. To hit him. To run away. But he only stood, eyes wide. Face pale. The air in the room felt tense and frozen. Michael exhaled and stared at the floor again, wiping his cheek on the back of his hand. His breath was shaking. That's when heard a sniffle. He looked up.

_Is Jeremy..... Crying?_

He was. His face was scrunched up as tears dripped down, and soon he couldn't stay quiet, breaking into shoulder-heaving sobs. Michael stared, dumbfounded. And his heart felt like it had dropped in his chest at the sight. Why was Jeremy crying? It wasn't like _he_ had been the one to just come out. He hadn't seen Jeremy cry since third grade. Jeremy met his eyes again. He took a deep breath, trying to stop sobbing enough to speak.

" 'M so sorry, Mikey. I'm so-" He sobbed again cutting himself off. "I'm so dumb." He finished, before breaking down again, standing with his head in his hands. A few strands of dark hair were sticking to his cheeks with tears.

That's when he thought about kissing Jeremy. It was a brief intrusive thought, something he knew he would never actually do- but he thought about it, despite the situation, despite the splotchy redness in Jeremy's face. Michael thought he still looked wonderful, even hiccuping into his hands. And he hadn't called him Mikey once that year until right then. Yeah, he could imagine kissing him right now. Wiping away his tears and kissing him hard.

Michael stood staring for another minute or so, unable to speak. He himself had stopped crying, but Jeremy was still buried  in his own hands, wiping snot on his sleeve occasionally, his muffled whimpers the only noise in the room. Michael exhaled before slowly approaching Jeremy, wrapping his arms gingerly around him just like Jeremy had done in eight grade.

Jeremy surprised Michael when he immediately clung to him, wrapping his arms around his torso tightly, even though he was still taller. Michael could feel tears through his shirt. It was a little ironic, the fact that _he_ was the one comforting Jeremy. Even so, he melted in to the hug, and everything suddenly felt raw. Incredibly raw. The severity of what he had just said hit him again, hard. Jeremy knew he was gay. Jeremy didn't hate him. _Jeremy didn't hate him._

He burst into tears.

There they stood, crying and hugging, two best friends completely lost in the world, but so, so grateful for each other. Michael tried to speak with his face buried in Jeremy's shoulder, he couldn't get anything but sobs out. It was ok, he wasn't sure what he would have said anyway. He was still crying, but he wasn't sad anymore. Or even mad. He was relieved. And in love. _So_ in love. He didn't think about that second part- he couldn't. He hugged desperately tighter.

After a few more minutes, Jeremy finally pulled away, much to Michael's dismay. He tried to ignore the warmth that had spread through his body, even when they were both crying. Neither boy had completely stopped crying, but they had reduced themselves to sniffles and puffy eyes. Jeremy sat by Michael in silence on the sofa for a minute more before he finally spoke.

"Michael, this doesn't change anything, just so you know. You're still my best friend. I'm still an idiot." He said, turning to him, his voice cracking with emotion one the last word. Relief flooded Michael's body once again. Things were the same. Things were ok. He turned to look at Jeremy, pushing his glasses up on his face a little. He offered a small smile. "Thank you." He mumbled.

So scared,

So in love.

Bonus thingy thing:

Later that week, Michael and Jeremy were walking home from seven eleven, each carrying a slushie. Things had settled between them- Jeremy had immediately quit using gay as an insult, and there were still some raw feelings between them, but they were closer than they had ever been before. Jeremy had started getting curious- asking questions like how long Michael had known and if he liked anyone. Michael didn't mind- he was still just happy Jeremy hadn't abandoned him. This particular afternoon, however, Jeremy was extra curious.

Michael was kicking a rock down the sidewalk as they walked, their conversation about the weird people they saw at seven eleven fading into a comfortable quiet, interrupted occasionally by a car passing by.

"Am I hot?" Jeremy blurted out, surprising Michael enough that he choked on his drink. Jeremy backpeddled fast. "I mean, like, since you're gay, you know which boys are attractive. Right? I don't know." Michael felt heat rising in his cheeks after he finished his slushie-induced coughing fit. He bit his lip awkwardly, trying to think of what to say. Jeremy stared at him expectantly, they had stopped walking. How was he so casual about this? Michael took another sip of his cherry slushie before he answered.

"Well, I mean, you're- you're not, like, ugly." He sputtered, wanting to slap himself as soon as he'd said it. _Not ugly? Seriously?_ He felt even worse as he watched Jeremy's face fall a little. "Wow, 'not ugly', thanks, Michael." He said sarcastically, rolling his eyes, but it was easy to see the insecurity he was trying to mask. "Wait! No. That's not what I meant! You- you are hot. Sorry." Michael finished, wanting to slap himself again. He could not have been more obvious, it was a good thing Jeremy was so oblivious. HIs face brightened. "You really think so?" He said, smiling. "Yeah." Michael confirmed, softly this time, staring into Jeremy's eyes.

"Thanks, Dude! Maybe- Maybe Christine does too! I don't know if she has a type or something but, like, maybe I have a chance with-"

Michael tuned out Jeremy's ramblings about Christine as they continued walking, partially because he'd heard them before, partially because they hurt like hell. Not that he'd tell anyone that.

He felt heat in his cheeks again.

_Well, shit._


	4. Summer Sucks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer was Jeremy's least favorite season. 'Least favorite' was an understatement. He despised summer, and for many reasons- he hated sweating, he hated wearing shorts, he hated bugs, he hated sunburns, and he really hated being bored. The only positive thing about it was not being in school. Sophomore year had been hell, and he was pretty fucking happy to be walking out of those doors for the next few months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! So, another internalized homophobia warning for this one. It's kinda angsty. I hope you like it!! Thank you so much for all the wonderful comments- they really make my day  
> xxx

Summer was Jeremy's least favorite season. 'Least favorite' was an understatement. He _despised_ summer, and for many reasons- he hated sweating, he hated wearing shorts, he hated bugs, he hated sunburns, and he _really_ hated being bored. The only positive thing about it was not being in school. Sophomore year had been hell, and he was pretty fucking happy to be walking out of those doors for the next few months.  

Right now, though, he would've happily gone back to school. At least it would have been air conditioned, unlike the pool snack bar where he was working. He was sweating through his t-shirt as he scrambled to hand impatient kids their hotdogs and ice cream sandwiches, all while listening to Jake Dillinger yammer about the most _random_ shit. He actually didn't mind having the same shift as Jake- he was a sweet guy and was fun to talk to, but Jeremy would never admit it. He wiped sweat from his forehead, groaning as he heard the bell at the window ring. He leaned against the counter. "Jake, can you get the next customer?" He called over his shoulder. "Nah, man, I think you should get this one." Jake replied before disappearing to the bathroom, and Jeremy frowned, confused. That wasn't like Jake. He sighed before turning to the window.

_Oh!_

He now understood why Jake didn't take the order. There in the sun stood Michael Mell, wearing his Bob Marley tank, orange swim trunks, and a big smile. He was also carrying a blue slushie.

"Michael! You have no idea how happy I am to see you and not another sweaty kid." He exclaimed, instantly feeling lighter as he leaned out the window to meet his best friend. "You shouldn't be talking." Michael laughed, gesturing to the huge sweat stains on Jeremy's shirt. He grinned sheepishly, feeling suddenly self conscious.

"Hey, so, I was thinking we could jet, but first I'd like one Chaco Taco." Michael said, dropping two crumpled dollar bills and a quarter on the counter. Jeremy grabbed them before striding to the freezer in the back. "Sounds good, but I've got, like, fifteen minutes of my shift left." He called over his shoulder, scanning the freezer and grabbing the last Chaco Taco from the back.

"You got the last one." He said with a smile, handing it to Michael and turning to shove the money into a folder they used as their cash register.

Jake appeared from the bathroom with a grin. "Jeremy, I can cover for you if you wanna go swim with him." He said, leaning against the wall. Jeremy smiled in relief. "Really? That'd be dope. Thanks, I owe you one." Jeremy said, grabbing his phone from the counter. "No problem. Also, nobody says dope anymore." Jake added as Jeremy left, and he felt heat rise in his cheeks. "Uh- oh- okay."

As soon as he was out, Michael handed Jeremy the slushie he'd been holding while he ate the Chaco Taco with one hand. (The chocolate ice-cream inside had started to melt on his face.) "This is for me?" Jeremy asked in surprise. Michael nodded like it was obvious, and Jeremy grinned as they walked down the steps to the pool deck. "Geez. Thanks." Jeremy mumbled from behind Michael, taking a sip. "You're too nice to me." He added, and Michael only shrugged as he dropped his towel on a blue reclining pool chair. His mouth was still full of chocolate ice-cream. Jeremy tugged off his shirt, struggling to get it over his head. When he finally did, his guts did a somersault. Michael was standing in front of him, now shirtless, bathed in sun. He was considerably more tan than he had been that winter. Jeremy felt more heat rising in his cheeks as he stared at Michael's bare chest.

_What the fuck?_

He had seen Michael shirtless countless times. Why did his body feel so warm? Maybe it was the sun. He had felt jealous looking at Michael shirtless before- he was actually kind of muscular, as opposed to Jeremy's stick of a body. But what he was feeling now was not jealousy. It was something that made him stutter and forget his own name. Michael glanced at his face, and Jeremy quickly looked away.

_Shit._

If Michael had noticed him staring, he was nice enough to pretend he hadn't. Jeremy pulled himself out of his trance by reaching for the sunscreen, his brain still reeling. He felt hazy, like Michael had some sort of spell on him.

_Oh. Oh no. This can't be happening._

"Jere, could you help me with sunscreen?" Michael asked, turning to look at Jeremy over his shoulder.

_Pull yourself together, dumbass!_

"Yeah, sure. Just your back?" Jeremy asked, impressed by the levelness of his own voice, and Michael nodded. Jeremy squeezed some sunscreen in his hands, rubbing them together before pressing them to Michael' back awkwardly. Jeremy felt him tense under his touch and his stomach did another flip.

"Fuck, that's cold. Why is sunscreen always so cold?" Michael mumbled, and Jeremy relaxed, chuckling. "I dunno, man." He replied, making sure to rub in the white spots. They showed up well on Michael's skin. His body felt kind of tingly and light as he rubbed Michael's shoulders. The same feeling he got with that hoodie a few summers ago. The same feeling he got with Christine.

Jeremy gulped. He was beginning to realize something. Something big.

When they were both adequately lathered with sunscreen and Michael had taken off his glasses, they walked to the edge of the pool. Jeremy stood for a moment, looking down at his reflection, his mind still cloudy and moving a mile a minute. He was whipped out of his thoughts when Michael yelled "Cannonball!" And leapt with a running start into the water. It splashed all over Jeremy and he stumbled back, flinching at how cold it was. "What the fuck? Warn me next time." Jeremy said, annoyed, but he softened as he watched Michael resurface. His wet hair stuck to his forehead and he grinned up at Jeremy.

"C'mon, get in! It feels great!" Michael called up, laughing. "No way. It's freezing!"

Jeremy complained, but he couldn't help but smile back. "Jeremyyyy!" Michael said, dragging out his name. Jeremy ignored the way his heart beat a little harder when he said it like that. "You're the one who sweated through your shirt!" He teased, and Jeremy tried to kick water at him. He dodged it with a giggle, trying to grab Jeremy's foot to pull him in. "You weirdo!" Jeremy laughed, but gave in a little, sitting on the edge of the pool and dropping his legs into the water. It _was_ pretty cold.

He bantered back and forth with Michael, continuing to splash water at him often, also slurping his slushie from time to time. His chest felt warm, and not just from the sun that was beating down on him. He felt a little weak in the knees. Everything was just _nice_.

After fifteen minutes, Michael had gone quiet, and Jeremy looked up from his slushie, confused.

Michael was staring away at something, looking flustered. Jeremy followed his gaze and saw him staring up at the lifeguard stand. There sat Richard Gorinski, shirtless, talking to Jake, also shirtless, who was leaning against the ladder. He looked back at Michael.

"Uh, wow. I've never noticed that Rich worked out before." Michael mumbled, sounding dazed. "Did you hear he's bi?"

Jeremy couldn't explain it, the feeling that flooded him. It was hot and cold at the same time, and not in a good way. They never really talked about Michael's love life, mostly because he didn't have one. He'd never had a real crush on anyone as far as Jeremy knew, and he thought it might be awkward to pester him about it if he did.

The dryness in Jeremy's mouth wasn't exactly jealousy- or, at least that's what he thought. He glanced at Rich and Jake again and he agreed, they were muscular. They were _hot._

What the fuck?

This was all happening so fast- his guts were a mess and he was freaking out because _why would I think they're hot?_

The same words kept echoing in his head.

_What's wrong with me?_

He knew, deep down, what this really was- something he had been avoiding for a long time. But he was scared.

There was something that he _didn't_ understand, though. That was the fact that all he really wanted to do right now was march over to Rich and Jake and make out with Michael in front of them. He wanted to kiss Michael. To make them jealous or prove a point or something, he didn't know. He could picture it now as he stared Michael's flushed cheeks, at his dripping hair, and his big eyes that were looking at the other boys.

And, quite suddenly, Jeremy wanted to cry.

"Earth to Jeremy. Hello? You okay?" Michael was waving a hand in front of his face. Jeremy blinked for a moment, gulping. He hadn't realized he was gripping the concrete pool edge with white knuckles. This was too much.

"I have to go." He said quietly, standing up without another word. He grabbed his phone, his slushie, and his shirt as he walked away, ignoring the pangs of guilt as heard Michael calling out behind him. "Wait, Jeremy! Where are you going? What's wrong? Jeremy!?!"

There was a crack of thunder. He ran the whole way home.

When he arrived, panting, soaked in rain, and sweatier than he had been all day, he ran straight to his room, ignoring his dad and ignoring his phone's constant vibrating. He chucked it behind him as he threw himself on to his bed, clutching a pillow to his chest. Everything felt wrong and weird and gross.

He thought boys were hot. But he thought girls were hot too.

And he thought Michael was hot. So there was that. He thought about the hoodie incident. And he thought about Michael coming out. And that time Michael said he was hot. And about kissing him.

_Fuck._

His heart was hammering now, and he shoved his face into a pillow.   _No. I'm not gonna fucking cry right now. Not fucking way._

He sat up suddenly, running a hand through his hair, staring at the rain pouring outside of his window. He felt like he was breaking down. He felt so alone. But for the first time, he felt like he was being honest with himself. He took a deep breath.

_I'm bi._

He thought, and that's when he started to cry.

Hours, tears, and a bag of Doritos later, Jeremy felt better. Still raw and still scared, but better. He finally picked up his phone from the floor where he had tossed it earlier.

**6 missed calls from Michael**

**15 texts**

His heart sank with guilt a little. He wanted to text Michael, tell him what happened, explain why he abandoned him at the pool. But what was he supposed to say?

_'Hey, Michael, I just had a sexual identity crisis and discovered that I like guys. Also I might have a crush on you. See you tomorrow!'_

He shuttered just imagining it.

After typing and deleting and retyping for around ten minutes, he finally decided on a something along the lines of "hey, sorry I left you at the pool, I'll explain later."

He shut off his phone with a sigh and fell back on his bed again, staring at the ceiling. He glanced at the abandoned slushie cup on his desk and felt his stomach jolt.

 

 

He fell asleep thinking about Michael.

  
  
  



	5. Thunderstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It started with a drizzle- small raindrops lightly tickling Jeremy's nose as they walked to Michael's car from the school. By the time they reached his house, though, the rain had gotten heavier, big drops spattering his windshield. They ran up his driveway to the door, laughing as they attempted to cover themselves with their backpacks. (It didn't work.) They were still laughing when Jeremy dropped his backpack by the door, just like he had a thousand times after school before. He shouted a brief greeting at Michael's mom before heading straight for Michael's basement, tripping a little as he ran down the carpeted stairs. Michael was not far behind, carrying a pack of Mountain Dew and a bag of cheese puffs, wearing a proud grin. Jeremy smiled as Michael took his place on the worn bean bag beside him, tossing a Mountain Dew in his direction. Michael noted to himself how good Jeremy looked with wet hair.

It started with a drizzle- small raindrops lightly tickling Jeremy's nose as they walked to Michael's car from the school. By the time they reached his house, though, the rain had gotten heavier, big drops spattering his windshield. They ran up his driveway to the door, laughing as they attempted to cover themselves with their backpacks. (It didn't work.) They were still laughing when Jeremy dropped his backpack by the door, just like he had a thousand times after school before. He shouted a brief greeting at Michael's mom before heading straight for Michael's basement, tripping a little as he ran down the carpeted stairs. Michael was not far behind, carrying a pack of Mountain Dew and a bag of cheese puffs, wearing a proud grin. Jeremy smiled as Michael took his place on the worn bean bag beside him, tossing a Mountain Dew in his direction. Michael noted to himself how good Jeremy looked with wet hair. 

Here's the thing- by this time, the boys were nearing the end of their junior year. Michael had grown into his red hoodie quite well by now. And he still didn't really know why Jeremy had run home from the pool that one time. His crush on Jeremy had not waned in the slightest- in fact, it was there in fuller force than it had ever been. After so many years, though, he'd learned to keep his feelings under control- for his own sake and for Jeremy's. There'd been many moments, many slip ups, and he was grateful that Jeremy had gotten even more oblivious to these things as they grew. This was also a curse, though, because that meant that Jeremy didn't have any idea the humiliating affect he could have on Michael sometimes. Like right now, with his excited grin and damp hair. It was pretty damn adorable, and it kind of made his head feel like it was full of cotton. 

Jeremy popped open his soda can, grabbing a controller. Today they were going to play the newest version of Apocalypse of the Damned- It had been released the previous day, and the two were charged with energy and ecstatic. It was obvious in the way Jeremy kept bobbing his knee up and down, glancing at Michael. This was  _ their game _ \- they'd been playing it since the first version came out four years prior. Michael grinned as he handed the game to Jeremy to put in the console. Rain pounded the window.

"Dude, I can't believe the new version is finally out." Michael said, his voice positively giddy as Jeremy returned to the beanbags. "I know, right? It's been so long. This is gonna be so good."

They wasted no time in starting the game, and their shouts, curses, groans, and laughter could soon be heard throughout the entire house. It proved to be more challenging than they had expected, and Michael was halfway through shouting at the TV (They'd just lost level three for the second time) when he noticed Jeremy staring. "Uh, you okay?" He asked, lowering his voice. Jeremy blinked and then looked away, looking suddenly flustered. 

_ Huh.  _

"Yeah, I'm good. Sorry. Spacing out. Let's go again." He said quickly, and Michael nodded, still confused. He shrugged it off, though, focusing back on the screen in front of him. This time they were gonna win.

They didn't. Jeremy had made some weirdly rookie mistakes. Michael turned to him, about to complain about him fucking up their game, but he softened when he saw how anxious Jeremy looked. He was staring again.

"Jere? Seriously, what's wrong? We can talk about it." He said, and Jeremy seemed to crumble even more at that. Michael panicked a little. "I- I mean we don't have to or anything, if you-" His voice trailed off. Jeremy had turned to face him on the beanbag. Michael followed suit, confused, dropping his controller. Jeremy seemed to scan his face anxiously for a minute. Michael's heart hammered with worry and with something else.

"Michael. There's something I've been meaning to tell you for... For a while. And it might ruin things." He started, looking down. "I- I just-" His face was turning red, just like it did whenever he was flustered or stressed. "Jesus, I didn't think this would be so hard to say. Sorry." He mumbled, running a hand through his hair. Michael was getting really worried now.

_ Did he find out? _ Michael's heart dropped at the thought.  _ No. He couldn't have.  _ But panic still started to pool in his chest.

"It's ok. Go on." Michael said softly, and Jeremy seemed to melt a little into his seat at that, exhaling shakily. "Ok. I had- I had, like, this long ass speech planned, but I can't remember any of it. Fuck." He looked down again, clutching the beanbag until his hands were almost shaking. Michael wanted to reach out and grab them, tell him everything was okay. But he wasn't really sure if it was. 

That's when Jeremy said it. 

"Michael, I really like you. Not just the best friend thing. Um..." Jeremy's grip on the beanbag tightened even more, he couldn't meet Michael's gaze. "I've got a crush on you."

No. No. He could not have heard that right. There was  _ no fucking way _ . Michael's eyes widened and his whole body felt numb with shock. This couldn't be happening. It was way too good to be true. This was just a sick joke.

Jeremy stared up at him for a moment, big blue eyes looking shiny, like he might cry, his star so intense Michael had to close his eyes. He wasn't lying. He wasn't lying!

_ He likes me.  _

Warmth bloomed in his chest.

"I'm sorry Michael, I- fuck, I shouldn't have said that. I knew this would ruin everything. I'm-" He stood up, "I'm just g-gonna go."

This was happening so fast Michael couldn't register it. But by the time he came to his senses, Jeremy was already halfway up the stairs. 

"W-wait! Jeremy! Come back!" He shouted, but he was too late. He heard the door slam upstairs. His mind was reeling.

_ Shit. Shit shit shit. _

_ What am I doing? _

Michael jumped up from his beanbag, accidentally kicking over his Mountain Dew in the process, but he didn't give half of a shit. He ran (more like tumbled) up the stairs, tripped over Jeremy's backpack that he'd forgotten, hardly bothering to shut the door behind him as he stumbled onto the sidewalk. He was soaked in seconds, the dark clouds above still pouring rain, but he barely noticed. He looked around desperately for Jeremy, he couldn't see through the downpour, though, and his glasses were becoming quickly cloudy with the humidity. His heart sank lower in his chest, but he wasn't giving up now. He couldn't. 

He turned left and sprinted up the sidewalk, nearly colliding with a car as he scampered across the street. He didn't even flinch because he didn't even care. His heart was still pounding when he turned another corner. Someone on was there. He squinted, taking off his clouded glasses.

His heart skipped a beat. Jeremy. There he was, standing alone in the pouring rain. 

Michael felt like time had just stopped, everything but Jeremy and himself melting away. The only sound was the steady pattering of the never ending rain.

Michael ran to him. 

When Jeremy heard footfalls on the wet pavement he turned, eyes wide. 

Michael tripped. 

He hit the concrete hard, his ankle rolling beneath him as he fell. Mud splattered his hoodie and he heard something cracking in his hoodie pocket. He flinched at the contact, but he was scrambling back to his feet just seconds later, ignoring the dull throbbing in his foot. He half limped, half sprinted the rest of the way to meet Jeremy. He looked like he might have been crying, but it was impossible to tell with the rainwater dripping down his face. His hair and clothes were soaked. Michael grabbed his shoulders as soon as he was close, breathing hard, like he was afraid he might disappear again if he let go. 

He was met with the blue, broken and confused gaze of his best friend. His best friend that he'd had a crush on for years. 

His best friend that had a crush on him too. 

It was like the sense had been knocked out of him again as he stared at the wonder that was Jeremy Heere, and he went weak in the knees. At the way his wet hair stuck to his forehead, the way his cheeks flushed when he was scared, the way his eyes widened as Michael moved his hands to the sides of Jeremy's face. He didn't care that Jeremy was soaking wet, or that he might have been crying or that he was the most oblivious idiot in the world. He wouldn't have him any other way. 

Michael tried to tell him but he couldn't speak. 

_ Fuck it. _

All the emotions he'd ignored, repressed, and desperately tried to control coursed through him now, ridding him of all logic and reason. In a moment of pure ballsiness (or stupidity. He wasn't quite sure which) he grabbed Jeremy's dripping face, pulled it close to his, pushed up on his toes, and kissed him hard on the lips.

His stomach erupted in butterflies, hot and cold and soft and explosive. He'd imagined kissing Jeremy a thousand times but nothing ever even came close to this. It was a rough and messy kiss, noses bumping and Michael's eyes shut tight, and he pulled back just a little. It became gentle and soft, melting Michael's legs to jelly. It was so far from perfect but so incredibly intense that it felt heavenly.

Jeremy jerked his head back suddenly, and panic floored Michael's body, but Jeremy's expression wasn't the look of disgust that he was expecting. He looked bewildered- his eyes were wide and his pale cheeks were flushed as he blinked at Michael. The rain poured around them still, a drop hitting Jeremy's nose as they stood there. 

"You- you like me?" Jeremy asked quietly, his voice laced with a disbelief that caused a pang of  _ something _ deep in Michael's chest. The question seemed to make his whole brain turn to mush. 

Anything Jeremy did seemed to make him turn to mush. 

Michael tried to speak again, but his voice came out as more of a soft yelp. "Y- yes! Hell yes!" He almost shouted, taking his hands from Jeremy's face to cover his own when he realized how loud he was. He could feel warmth and rainwater on his own cheeks. Jeremy pulled his hands down, placing his own hands on Michael's shoulders. His eyes swept Michael's face, searching for any hint of a lie. There was none. 

That's when Jeremy leaned down just a little to meet Michael, and they were kissing again. 

_ Fuck.  _

This kiss was just so  _ Jeremy _ that Michael thought he might faint. It was soft and gentle, incredibly sweet, and the smell of rain mingled with the smell of Jeremy was intoxicating. The light grip on his shoulders tightened.

When they pulled away, Jeremy's eyes were wide again, and Michael couldn't help but grab his face and stare at him. Jeremy started to smile timidly, before his face broke into a colossal, giddy grin that Michael mirrored instantly. It would have been impossible not to smile right now, but he didn't even try to hold it in. Even with his heart hammering, he felt fearless. He'd just kissed Jeremy Heere in the rain. He'd just kissed Jeremy Heere. Holy shit.

"That- that was amazing. I mean- uh- you're amazing. Shit. I'm so- I can't- I just-" Jeremy choked out, unable to find the words. Michael chuckled quietly. It made him feel warm to know he had that effect on Jeremy. 

"Wow." Jeremy finally said, meeting Michael's eyes again, his smile still shining through the rain. 

"Wow." Michel agreed, moving his hands from Jeremy's face to the back of his neck. Jeremy flushed redder, about to lean in again when-

_ Boom.  _

Thunder cracked overhead, knocking them both out of their trances, and the surroundings came into focus once again. Jeremy became aware of the way his soaked t-shirt was clinging to his clammy skin, and Michael became aware of the throbbing in his ankle (it was getting harder and harder to stand) and the stinging on his legs. He glanced down to see a tear in his jeans and little blood seeping through them on both knees. He didn't care- he barely even felt them. He looked back at Jeremy, who had his arms wrapped around himself and looked cold. For a second Michael thought about offering his hoodie (which he was sure seeing Jeremy in would pretty much explode him) but quickly realized it was completely soaked as well. There was another crack of thunder and Jeremy flinched.

"We should probably go back." Michael said with a small smile, and Jeremy nodded in agreement.

"Yeah.." He mumbled. "Sorry about.... well, Dragging you out here. Getting you wet. Making you fall." He looked down, still flushed from their previous escapades but also looking very guilty. "Hey. Hey. It's okay." Michael said softly, reaching his hand out. Jeremy glanced up at his face quickly before taking it, giving Michael a rush of heat in his hand that went straight to his chest. Touching Jeremy was like a drug.

There was a different rush when he tried to take a step, however, and he had to hold in a yelp of pain at the way his ankle seemed to crack under his own weight. (It didn't really, but it sure felt like it.) He cursed under his breath and leaned immediately on Jeremy's shoulder without thinking, his eyes watering slightly and mixing with the rain. Jeremy looked at him with panicked concern, unsure of what to to do. He wrapped his arm under Michael's gently, trying to keep them stable, Michael nearly knocking him over. He took a moment to collect himself.

"Shit, Jere. I'm sorry. I must've-" he paused with a wince, bending his knee and taking his foot off the ground entirely. "I must've hurt myself when I tripped. Shit." 

Jeremy bit his lip anxiously, staring down at Michael. "Um- are you- are you gonna be okay? -I'm sorry. This is my fault. I...." His voice trailed off. Michael felt a pang of guilt. Jeremy's face changed as an idea came to him, and he gulped. "You wanna get on my back? I can carry you home." He mumbled, blushing as he said it, and Michael's face lit up. "Yeah! I mean, if you're okay with it. I don't want to be too-" Michael lost his ability to speak when Jeremy smiled at him, shaking his head. "It's ok, Michael. I want to. Now, uh..." Jeremy let go of Michael, crouching in front of him low enough for Michael to grab the his shoulders.  Michael winced again as he tugged himself onto Jeremy's back, and Jeremy hoisted him up the rest of the way. They wobbled for a moment, but soon they were steady, Michael sitting comfortably with his arms slung around Jeremy's neck. Relief had flooded his body as soon as he was off his bad foot, and the feeling of warmth had returned now that most of him was pressed up against Jeremy. (Not to mention he looked practically shirtless with the way his white t-shirt was clinging to his skin) 

"You okay back there?" Jeremy called, straightening up as he slowly started walking back to Michael's. "Yep. I'm great." He said, resting his head on Jeremy's shoulder. 

_ I'm fucking amazing, actually.  _ He thought. But he kept his mouth shut. 

There was a beat of silence before Michael actually spoke again. "Hey. Thank you." He said softly, warmth pooling in his stomach. "For what?" Jeremy asked, stopping as a car drove past in front of them. Michael pondered for a moment, clutching the collar of Jeremy's t-shirt with one hand. 

"I dunno. For carrying me. For kissing me. For liking me back. Everything." He said, his voice steady and quiet. Jeremy was silent for a moment, standing still even though there were no more cars. Michael was sure Jeremy could probably feel his heart beating through his hoodie right now. 

"Mikey, I want- I mean- I just- geez, this is embarrassing." Jeremy muttered, but Michael could hear the smile in his voice. Jeremy calling him Mikey made him clutch the t-shirt tighter. (Jeremy felt it.)

"What I'm trying to say is.... Don't- don't thank me. I  _ want _ to carry you and I've had a crush on you for a long time and- I- I- I  _ really _ wanna kiss you. Like, a lot." He finished, finally remembering to cross the street. Michael didn't think his body could feel any warmer than it had, but heat crept into his face and chest again. There was a tug in his stomach at the words  _ a lot-  _ his mind was swimming with possibilities, some of them making him flustered. He grinned and hid his face, burying it in Jeremy's (damp) dark hair, breathing him in. He didn't care that his ankle might have been broken, he didn't care that his mom was going to shout at him for standing out in the rain so long, he didn't care that his hoodie was soaked and muddy or that his feet were cold. 

He only cared about Jeremy. 

His grin widened and he rested his head there, shrouded in rainwater and clinging to Jeremy, happier than he'd ever been before. 

Two boys disappeared down the muddy sidewalk with glowing grins on both of their faces, feeling lighter than air. Maybe they were two awkward losers, but they had each other.

And they planned to kiss  _ a lot _ more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!! This is the last chapter, I really hope you enjoyed it!! I'm working on a different short story that's sort of a continuation of this where the gang gets like... stuck in a mall?? idk they try to sneak in overnight and they get stuck or something. I think it'll be a little different but we'll see. I love you all!!  
> xxx


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